


One Normal Night

by SilverFlameAlchemist



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bruises, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Julian deserves to be loved, Kink Negotiation, M/M, No one is surprised, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, a better ending than what was written, borders on smut, but close, not actual smut, soft domming, sub!Julian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFlameAlchemist/pseuds/SilverFlameAlchemist
Summary: All you asked for was one normal night, to celebrate, see a show... but life isn't like that here in the city, and certainly not with a trouble-maker like him...





	One Normal Night

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a song from The Addam's Family play.
> 
> This was supposed to be smut, but then it became fluff and I couldn't argue, so here. Take it.

“Just once, I'd like to go somewhere with you and not have to run for my life seconds later.”

You slumped against an obliging wall, trying to catch your breath, as beside you Julian began to chuckle.

“It's not my fault we seem to attract trouble—” he grinned. “The least you could do is take some of the credit for it.”

“Oh, I will not,” you straightened, brushing the dust from your clothes as you righted your appearance. “It's always your fault. Always. Every time.”

You could see the color start to flare on his cheeks as he glanced away, tugging on his cuffs.

“But I like trouble; as long as it's the kind I get into with you,” you teased, smirking. “So really, it's a good thing.”

He cleared his throat and pulled on a grin, “Well in that case, blame me all you like, my dear.”

You laughed, tipping your head back to look up into the star studded sky. It was clear since...well, since a certain someone had been dealt with. No more beadles, no more bloodshed, no more hiding from memories...

“Julian,” you spoke to the sky, but could almost feel his attention turn to you. “Our evening out was interrupted—I hope you have a plan for how to make it up to me.”

Your tone remained even, calm, but you knew it would drive him mad to have you sound so calm.

“You of all people should know by now that I always have a plan, darling.”

You slowly turned your gaze back onto him, and had the pleasure of watching that blush come back, stronger than before. You flicked an eyebrow at him, and he finally cracked, grinning impishly.

“Don't I, dearest?”

“No.”

His eyes widened as he put a hand to his heart, mouth gaping like a leech. He leaned against the wall, half-slumping against it, the image of wounded pride.

“And after all we're been through,” he scoffed. “I thought you cared for me!”

You moved swiftly, using your body to pun him fully to the wall, earning a surprised yelp that quickly devolved into a muffled groan. You pressed a hand to his side under the coat he wore, and lifted the other to cup his face. He pressed into the touches eyes heavy as his gaze lifted to meet yours.

“Make no mistake, Julian, I do care for you... but more than that, I love you.”

His face burned scarlet as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyelids fluttering, and you pressed closer, whispering against his lips.

“I love you, Julian.”

He shuddered against you, a faint gasp caught as you kissed him—feather-light and fleeting.

He tried to wriggle closer, and you pulled back with a hum. He tried to follow, but you kept him against the wall with a hand on his side.

“Now, now, Julian—don't be a bad boy—you'll have to behave if you want to know what I have planned.”

He gulped and gave a shaky nod as he relaxed back against the wall, watching you closely.

You pressed another quick, light kiss to the corner of his mouth, but he didn't try to catch your lips; instead staying still as you hummed into his ear.

“Good boy.”

That sentiment, however, earned you another shudder and a soft moan.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please what, darling boy? You have to be specific, if you want me to take care of you.”

“Please, please, may I—may I touch you?”

“Oh, so polite!” You took his hand and guided it to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

He bit his bottom lip and watched your mouth move against his hand.

“And such politeness aught to be rewarded, don't you agree?”

He nodded eagerly, and you had to bite back a laugh at how cute his eagerness was.

His eyes had lit up, a shy, genuine smile on his lips, and you were torn between the urge to cuddle him and ravage him on the spot. 

Or maybe both. Both could be a good option.

You kissed him again, chuckling as he moaned into it, kissing back eagerly. You guided his hand to your neck and shoulder, brushing his knuckles over your skin briefly before you took his hand away, and he made a soft noise of complaint.

“Do you remember where your hand went?”

He took a breath and then nodded shyly.

“That's where you can touch me,” you purred. “Anywhere else, and I'll have to take your hand away. Do you understand?”

He nodded again, a hint of his grin resurfacing as you fell into a familiar pattern. You had done something similar before, but it was thrilling to see him so eager to play at this game a second time.

His knuckles brushed over your cheek before he touched a finger reverently to your lips, biting his own.

“You don't have to be gentle, my dear,” he whispered.

“I know—but I want to be gentle. I want you to feel safe and loved; because you are.”

That hooded, hungry expression gave way to a shy and soft smile that slowly blossomed over his face.

“And if...if I wanted you to...be a little rough?”

“Well, if you ask nicely, Doctor, there's nothing I could deny you,” you grinned sharply. “So if that's what you want, you'd better ask very nicely.”

His knees wobbled, sending him another inch or so lower down the wall. You had better access, now, so you carded your fingers through his hair, humming as his eyes fluttered.

“So then, Doctor, what would you like?”

He opened his mouth, shut it, and then tried again, “would—uhh...”

He glanced to the ground, flushed and squirming, before glancing up through his lashes at you.

“If you left marks now, they wouldn't fade, and I could see them for days while they healed.”

You blinked, staring at your tried to understand what he was saying, reading between the blurted line. Slowly, a grin started to curl your lips up at the corners, and you dug your nails into the skin at the nape of his neck.

“Are you sure, darling? You might need to wear your collar up for a few days—and I'm sure to leave a few elsewhere too...”

“Think you're not up to the challenge?” He jerked his chin up, but the defiant air was belied by the quiver of his lip.

“I'm not sure you are, darling,” you purred, leaning in to whisper against his ear. “Your knees are already shaking, I'd hate for them to give out on you.”

He slid a bit further down the wall and you smirked triumphantly.

“Maybe I should stop,” you ran a finger down the side of his face, catching at the edge of his jaw and guiding his head back and to the side, exposing a sliver of his throat. “Give you a break before you, well, break.”

He squirmed again, trying to catch your eye without moving his head, and you leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Then again, you did ask politely... so maybe you do deserve a reward.”

You braced your knee between his legs, pressing into the wall as you got a better angle and curved your self around him, nose running along his jawline before you took your lips to his throat, kissing at the ivory skin as a moan bubbled out of him. You reached up to tug his collar out of the way and bit down, hard enough you felt copper leak into your mouth, and Julian bit his lips shut on a strangled noise as he shuddered up and into you, hand suddenly scrabbling for purchase against your shoulder. You lingered, running your tongue over the sensitive flesh before you released it, moving just south to leave another mark, giving this new spot the same treatment, Julian quivering as you kept him upright against the wall.

You pulled away from the second and tipped his head back to down to see his face, flushed and lips swollen from where he had bitten them, you smiled.

“Such a darling boy, for me,” you chuckled, shifting away to adjust yourself against him.

The moment you started to pull away, however, he pulled you back, expression shifting from pleasure to panic as he gulped and whispered your name.

“Don't leave,” he whispered. “Please, don't—”

You leaned back in to kiss him, and he melted into you again, hand cupping your cheek delicately. You smiled into it, pressing a hand flat against his chest as you pushed him gently back against the wall again.

“I would never abandon you, Julian,” you whispered against his lips. “No matter what.”

“I—” he stopped, worried his lip, sent you that shy smile. “I know, my dear... Thank you.”

“Oh, don't thank me yet,” you grinned. “The night's still young and you still have to make up a ruined evening.”

“It's not my fault!” He scoffed, straightening up and adjusting the slip of scarlet satin he called a tie, fingers brushing over the fresh bruises fondly before he cinched it into place. “Those ruffians were at fault. If they'd just kept their eyes to themselves, I wouldn't have had to step in and show them what for.”

“My hero,” you teased, earning a dashing grin and a wink. “How did I survive without you?”

“As memory serves, you didn't,” he froze, glancing at you, before tugging at his coat sleeves. “But—well, that's all in the past now—you're more than capable of handling yourself, my dear.”

“And yet where would I be without my hero?” You stretched up to kiss the sliver of skin between his jaw and ear, his knees wobbling dangerously again before he steadied himself against the wall.

“Probably off cavorting with ruffians, at a guess,” he grinned as you laughed. “But since you're stuck with me, why don't I make up the evening to you?”

“And how will you be doing that? We've missed too much of the show to go back to the theater now.”

“Well, erm...” he frowned, fiddling with the buttons on his coat. “I thought, perhaps, we could... maybe... go to... my house?”

“You mean Mazelinka's house?” You folded your arms. “Because the last time we did that, you got hit with a spoon so hard it left a welt.”

“Yes, thank you, I remember,” he huffed, absently rubbing his arm where the injury had occurred. “And no—I do mean my house, I...I bought one.”

“You what?”

“I, uh, I bought one? A house?” He chuckled, pink faced, suddenly all nerves as he babbled on. “Did you know some brokers take doubloons? I had no idea—but this chap I know told me about a swell little spot right on the edge of the city and it has a yard, even, with room for a little garden, and a nice kitchen for your magical things, and the bedroom is almost too large, you could swing Asra round your head in there and not hit a wall—”

“Julian,” you interrupted, a blush of your own starting to climb over your cheeks. “Did... did you buy us a house?”

“Was that not obvious from my magician-swinging metaphor?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, my dearest, darling-est light of my heart—I bought us a house.”

Your mouth was suddenly open and not working.

“That is, I mean—” Julian started to wave his hands about, making vague gestures. “If you want that, I mean—you're always welcome to say no, or at least look it over first before you, you know, make a choice, and you can always change your mind and move back in or out, but—”

“Julian, you are my choice.”

He froze, peeking down at you as his cheeks darkened to match his hair, “Beg pardon?”

“Every day, for as long as you'll have me, you will be my choice. Without question, without a shred of doubt in my heart,” you took his face in your hands, beaming at him. “I'll always come back to you, Julian. Always.”

He lifted a hand to slowly brush through your hair, his smile soft and small and shy.

“Then I should show you home, then, my dear. Keep those ruffians at bay.”

“My hero,” you giggled, stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Please, Doctor, take me home.”

He scooped you up in his arms, spinning you around once before he set you back down, both of you laughing, leaning on one another as you started to exit the alley you'd ducked into earlier to hide. He kept his fingers laced snugly with yours, grinning back at you as he lead the way.

“Anything for you, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and no one. Julian Devorak and The Arcana belong to their creators.


End file.
